Birth
by Satari-Raine
Summary: "People can only die once, you know." At least that's what Fujiwara believed. - Fujiwara, Asuka


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! GX or any of the characters depicted in the story. Proper rights are owned by the respected owners individually.

**Notes: **Just a short little "what if conversation happened" piece. Prompt was given to me by **Qu-Ko**, as well as encouragement. Hope you all enjoy.

_**Birth**_**  
by. Satari-Raine**

* * *

The ocean waves were calm.

Fujiwara always remembered them that way, lapping against the solid concrete of the pier, the lighthouse's beam dancing against the swishing surface of the water as it twirled around, streams of soft light flickering on and off. He remembered coming here with Ryou on nights he couldn't sleep, when the shadows of his room were too many, or when he simply wanted the comfort of the one friend that didn't have a twinkle in his eye or a new scheme every day. The two had been fond of sharing an hour's worth of silence peppered with quiet words: a promise of a duel tomorrow, a determination to escape another of Fubuki's plans, even a comment about the weather. Most days back then their promises reigned true to a duel, but the same couldn't be said for not tagging along with their flamboyant friend.

The weather, however, wasn't all that important.

Except now, Fujiwara was the only one here on this pier, leaning back against the sturdy column of the lighthouse with the waves below reflected him and his solitude.

"Are you all right?"

But as always, fate decided to make a change.

Fujiwara turned his head, brushing a stray green strand of hair away from his eyes as he locked gazes with Asuka, the girl still dressed in that frilly and elaborate gown Fubuki had made her wear. Absently, he wondered how difficult it was for her to make her way all the way from the Obelisk dorm to the pier in that attire, but considering she was a Tenjouin it wasn't all that surprising to him. She sent him a curious but reserved half-smile and Fujiwara stood up straight, standing a bit to the side to allow her a place beside him which she took with a polite nod, hands fixing the pink ruffles as she stood.

"Did you enjoy the graduation ceremony?" Her voice was quiet, much like the waves.

Fujiwara nodded at first but noticing her gaze on the water, decided to vocalize his thoughts. "Yes, it was nice. It's…good to be back." He said simply, noticing out of the corner of his eye her nod, a simple reply. The party was a distance flicker in his mind, the happy festivities a content embrace in the center of his chest. The expressions of goodbye's and farewell's, however, were a spark casted towards the kindling of melancholy memories, broken smiles and regrets, so he couldn't truly blame himself for leaving as early as he did.

"Onii-san was looking for you earlier. Mentioned something about getting you to dance?" Her hands fell in front of her, arms crossed underneath with long fingers cupping the underside of her elbows. Her amber-gray eyes reflected a calm front, her posture sturdy yet relaxed: all traits that Fujiwara absently noticed similar to Ryou's own habits.

Fingers ran through seaweed bangs as he shifted a bit, frowning at the sudden cold chill in the air before he folded his arms over his chest, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the way the water brushed against the rocky cliffs in the distance. "He knows full well I don't dance. Well, I'm not good at it."

"I'm sure, but this is my brother we're talking about. He doesn't know what personal space is."

Fujiwara chuckled, the corner of his tired eyes crinkling just a bit as he responded with an agreeing hum. After seconds ticked away, he entertained the idea of asking questions of why she was out here or if the party was still going on, or what Fubuki was up to. It was a natural curiosity, since he knew little about the woman herself aside from Fubuki's past ramblings. Yet, as he thought, he realized that was their only real common factor with one another besides dueling _was_ Fubuki and Ryou – Fujiwara himself had never really held a conversation with the girl at his side until now. It wasn't as if it was awkward, it wasn't – merely a comforting silence between two people. But the desire or semblance of words was strong, and that alone was puzzling enough.

"You seemed lost in thought." A split second pause, then a quiet rush of breath followed. "Is something wrong?"

Fujiwara blinked around the same time Honest's hands pressed against his shoulders, as if stealing his attention away from his thoughts, from the dark corners of his mind. His lips twitched a bit in a small smile, and the spirit whispered encouragement as he ushered his master to speak. "I'm all right, Asuka. Feeling a bit tired, I suppose." A brief pause. "I'm afraid I'm not used to parties."

"I see." She nodded, blonde hair swishing against her shoulder, flowing in a wave similar to the tranquil ocean as a crisp breeze slipped by, decorating their visible skin with goose bumps. After a second, her fingers twitched against the sleeves of her gown, eyes closed and breathing calm. "Please be sure to get some rest then. I'm positive you don't want my brother breaking into your room, 'checking up' on you."

Fujiwara's expression was neutral. "He's done it before." His tone was light. Nostalgic.

She tilted her head to face him, expression far too amused, a similar mask that took him back to the times of entertaining Fubuki. Fujiwara noticed briefly how young it made her look, or perhaps young wasn't the right word. He could settle for happy, regardless of how simplistic it seemed. But the little smile and bright eyes seemed so reserved, yet much more natural than the polite face she wore at the graduation ceremony.

"I wish I could say he wasn't always like that, but I'm sure you'd know better."

Honest laughed along with Fujiwara, the tones blending in only to the human male's ears before they drifted into the steady slushing of the water below the pair, trio to one's gaze only. In the distance, Fujiwara swore he heard a faint laugh, but assuming it was only a lone bird or perhaps a person walking by that was leaving the party, he nodded.

"Yes, I do. But I wouldn't trade it for anything." His throat started to burn, rejecting the words and pleading for them to remain unspoken, but he persevered, shaking his head just a bit as to clear his mind. "At least, not…now I wouldn't."

Asuka, thankfully, only offered a polite smile and a nod. It should've been enough. He should have silenced himself then, left the conversation to die at that awkward end. He knew he would have been better off if he only derailed himself away from his mind and the dark stains, switched the conversation from Fubuki to Ryou although, he knew indistinctly, that it would have hurt Fujiwara just as much as hearing about Fubuki.

But no, for once, he had to fight the silence. Perhaps it was because of all that time surrounded in solitude, alone only with his thoughts and the madness, the guilt and the crushing fact he had alienated himself, casted himself away to a dark and silent word that was void of his past life. Everything broke, nothing went as he planned, goodbyes were burning on the tip of his tongue as he faded. It was as if he died back then, his one chance at life over. But now…

"People can only die once, you know."

He was alive. A simplistic yet deep occurrence he couldn't crack open to explore, one he didn't want to question yet couldn't resist wanting to know _why_. It was a taste on his lips, a tingling in his veins, a constant thought prodding and pushing to gain notice in his mind. It was heartbreaking and rejuvenating and so very confusing. At times, now especially since the revival was so…current, he wondered if he would ever know what it was, why it happened, why he was lucky. Or was he destined to awake one night only to realize he slept in darkness once again and this was all a dream he didn't dare wish for?

Asuka's voice and Honest's hands once again broke his thoughts, and he let them go without a fight. He turned his attention to her as the waves stilled, as if the whole quiet world around them: the fog, the ocean, the dim flickering light of the lighthouse and the dark clouds overhead – everything waited for words to be spoken.

Fujiwara waited, as well.

She didn't ask what he meant by those words. Didn't bother waiting for him to explain more, to prod open the iron cage of his thoughts, to peek inside where no one dared. She was civil, respectful, caring and soft – much like Ryou yet also like Fubuki, because she shocked him, wielding an element of surprise. It was then he knew that, without a doubt, she was Fubuki's sister.

"Yes, but people can be reborn more than once."

Fujiwara stared, Honest's smooth agreement loud in his ears as he saw her smile at him: reassuring, faithful, confident. No judgment in her eyes, only acceptance with no questions, no desire to understand more than his simplistic explanations. Where he had curiosity about himself, she pressed none on him. More traits she had that resembled her brother, behaviors currently causing him to blink in curiosity before he turned his head, wide eyes locked back on the water.

Minutes passed. More silence. The waves picked up again as the wind brushed by. Honest faded away with a hand on Fujiwara's shoulder and a smile on his lips.

"I'm very grateful."

That was all Fujiwara said and it was all Asuka accepted, both of them remaining silent as they continued watching the ocean.

The world around them swallowed them, encasing them in a needed moment of camaraderie. It wasn't surprising that they didn't notice up above, resting on a nearby cliff, was Fubuki, still garbed in his fairy tale prince-like outfit - the buckles gleamed in the light of the waxing moon, the sashes smooth as they drifted in the breeze, the blue suit pressed and pristine. With his arms crossed over his chest, eyes bright and narrowed in happiness, he watched over the two a moment longer before he turned on his heel and headed down the dark path to Ryou's hospital ward, a simple smile that spoke more than he could say placed on his lips.

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Comments and critique are always welcomed.


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